Waking Up In Vegas
by Chenai.x
Summary: What do you do when you find yourself in bed next to a complete stranger, only to discover that you're married? It turns out that waking up in Vegas isn't all that it's cracked up to be. John Cena/OC


**A/N:** I don't know if this idea has been done before, but I thought I would give it a go and hopefully make all you John Cena lovers happy. It was also a chance for me to explore more humorous aspects of writing as 'The One That Got Away' is quite dark. Please let me know what you think of this!

**And lastly, this story is rated strongly for a reason, so please do not read if you are under the age of consent in your area.**

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><p><strong>Waking Up In Vegas<strong>

**Chapter 1: Who The Hell Are You?**

She stretched her legs out and sighed in sleepy contentment. If heaven was a bed then she was sure she was waking up beyond the pearly gates. She rolled onto her back and let herself spread out into a starfish position, something her best friend would often complain about when they would bunk up after a night out together.

Her left hand hit something unfamiliar, and in a sleepy haze she felt around, face contorting in confusion when she squeezed something firm, yet fleshy. Her eyes were still closed as she trailed down further, her hand coming in contact with something else, automatically giving it a curious squeeze.

"Mmmm..."

She froze. What the fuck was that? Instantly she was wide awake and too scared to even move, let alone take a look at where the mysterious noise was coming from. All kinds of crazy ideas passed through her tired mind until she felt the bed shift and a male voice yell out, making her almost jump out of her skin. She removed her hand from whatever she was holding and sat up in a panic.

"Who the hell are you!"

"Who the hell are **you**! And why are you in my be-" _Wait._ She took a look around. _This wasn't her bed... This wasn't even her room!_ She stumbled from the mattress and took the sheet with her, letting out a shriek when she got a good look at the very naked stranger underneath it. "Oh my God, cover it up! COVER IT UP!"

The unidentified man leapt up and used a pillow to cover his dignity, leaving them both in a stand off at opposite sides of the bed. "You're the one who uncovered it, red!"

Her eyes narrowed and she glared at him. She hated when people called her red, especially guys. It had been a constant since she had dyed her naturally brown hair a more exciting, intoxicating deep red. _Hey red, wanna go for a drink? Shake it over here, red - Show me what you've got._ She shuddered. Men truly were pigs.

She looked over at him, the maroon bed sheet held tight to her body, her face scrunching up in confusion when she noticed the way that he was staring at her. His eyes were wide now and he was taking deep breaths as if to calm himself. "Why are you looking at me like you're Ted Bundy and I'm your next victim!"

"You're married?" He asked incredulously, staring down at her ring finger.

"Uh, no." She answered as though he was the stupidest person in the world. She glanced at the hand that was holding the pillow over his groin and noticed a simple platinum band adorning his. "Looks like you are, though. All you men are the same, aren't you?"

"Easy there sweetcheeks, you're the one with the ring on your finger." He accused, pointing down at her hand. "Not much of a sparkler either, is it? No wonder you slept with me if that's the best your hubby can do for ya'..."

"What the hell are you on abou-" She froze as her eyes caught the light glinting off of something on her finger. She swallowed hard. "What is this? I've never seen this before in my life..."

"And you say guys are bad?" He scoffed. "No need to make excuses, red. I could give two shits if you're hitched..."

"You're wearing one too!" She stuttered, noticing that it looked just as tacky as the one that had suddenly appeared on her. "We didn't...?"

The pillow dropped from his hand, forcing her to look away as he let it all hang out, his eyes looking like they were ready to pop out of their sockets when he saw his hand. He looked up at her in panic and then back down again, his mouth open and closing like a fish as he struggled to speak. "We didn't... This isn't... You're not...?"

"I don't know..." She admitted meekly, pulling the sheet tighter in a moment of self consciousness. "I don't remember a thing from last night. I don't even know where I am right now."

He said nothing in return and turned his back to her, rooting around the room until he found his boxers carelessly strewn near the door. He pulled them on much to her relief and paced the room, fingers nervously working through what little hair he had as he talked to himself in quiet whispers.

She remained rooted to the spot trying to make sense of the bizarre situation they were in. The last thing she remembered from the night before was being at a club with her girlfriends. They had been bar hopping all night; that was the best thing about Vegas, there was always a million places to choose from, each of them better than the last one you'd been to. She remembered being pretty steamed, they had been celebrating her best friend's birthday and her memory seemed to end on what must have been the ninth round of sambucas. Her brow knitted as she thought hard to herself. She just couldn't remember this guy at all, let alone how she had ended up here in this situation.

"You did this on purpose, didn't you?"

Her head shot up at the accusation. The mystery man sounded alot calmer than before, however he had an accusing look in his eyes that didn't sit well with her. "Excuse me?"

"You did this." He repeated slower this time, pointing a finger at her. "You got me wasted and took advantage of me. I knew coming to Vegas was a bad idea. I fucking told Randy that we should lay low and not go out. _Just a couple of drinks, Cena, and then we'll go back to the hotel_..." He mimicked the last part in a deeper mans voice, practically arguing with himself now. He growled in frustration and in a moment of rage, completely knocked everything from one of the corner units, letting everything hit the floor with a crash.

She swallowed hard and took a step backwards until she hit the wall. Her grip on the sheet tightened as she began to panic. Here she was with no idea where she was, practically naked after having a night of drunken sex that she couldn't remember with a guy who was accusing her of deliberately marrying him and now smashing up the place and talking to himself like some loon in the Rawson-Neal psychiatric hospital. For all she knew he could be some psychopath minutes away from bludgeoning her to death.

"So why? Why did you do it, huh? You want money?" He turned and searched for his wallet before taking out all the money he had in there and tossing it at her. "Well fucking have it. I can't believe this." He settled down on the edge of the bed and let her head fall into his hands.

She used this as her opportunity to escape. Ever so quietly she picked up what items of clothing she could find and slipped them on. She couldn't find her bra or her panties, but she didn't care at that point. At least Vegas was the one place that she wouldn't look out of place walking down the street in a slutty red dress at god knows what time of the morning. She nervously smoothed down her hair and breathed a silent sigh of relief when she found her purse with her phone in, keeping her eyes on the mystery gentlemen as she made a beeline for the door.

He jumped up at the last minute and blocked her path, making her heart rate speed up. "Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving," She swallowed; body shaking as she finally noticed just how big he was compared to her. While she stood at a mere 5'4 at best, he towered over her at around 6'2. His chest was large and defined, and the arm that blocked her path was practically bigger than her. He could probably lift her with his pinkie finger.

He blinked in confusion, and then it hit him. "You really don't know who I am, do you?"

"Should I?" She answered back, her green eyes looking up into his deep blue.

He sighed heavily and moved out of her way, rubbing his temple in an attempt to chase away his growing headache. It was her perfect chance to get the hell out of there, but for some strange reason she couldn't bring herself to move.

"You can't just leave." He said finally, waving his ring clad hand at her. "We're married, remember? We need to fix this."

"Got a time machine?" She quipped, crossing her arms. "I can't believe this is happening."

"Me neither." He agreed, silence falling between them. "I'm going to make some calls."

She nodded slowly. "I'm going to-" She paused. What was she going to do? "Go to the bathroom..." She finished, not knowing what else she could say. All she wanted to do was get out of the room and away from him and this entire situation. It was beyond comprehensible.

"Alright. Just don't try to escape through the window, okay?" He had a small smile on his face, but she could tell that a part of him was serious. She did her best to smile back at him and scurried away, finally breathing a sigh of relief when the bathroom door shut behind her and she was alone.

She took a look around at the generous sized bathroom. The walls were a dark grey with stainless steel surfaces, the beautiful marble floor chilling her feet as she padded towards the huge bay window that was situated by the bath. They were about thirty floors up, so there was no chance of her escaping even if she wanted to, not to mention that the window didn't even open. You could see the whole of the Las Vegas strip from up here. She could just imagine how beautiful it looked when it was dark and the lights illuminated the city.

She pulled down the toilet lid and sat down, finally taking a look at her cell phone. She had no missed calls, no texts, nothing. Nice to know that her friends were worrying about her while she was gone. She unlocked her iphone and tapped a message to her best friend.

_SOS._

It took less than a minute before her phone beeped with a reply.

_Well if it isn't my fave hussy! How was your night with the sexy meathead? Did he work you good? ;-)_

She stared down at the message in confusion. She knew she had left with him? More importantly, she'd **let **him leave with him? She hit call and it rang three times before she answered.

"You let me leave with him!" She whispered angrily as soon as she answered. "Lo, what the fuck!"

"Oh relax; you were all over each other." Her best friend giggled on the other end of the line. "And besides, the girls and I decided you needed a little fun."

"Fun!" She blasted, keeping her voice low so that he wouldn't hear her. "I woke up with no idea of where I am or what the hell happened last night, L. That is not my idea of fun."

"Really? It is mine," She responded, making her roll her eyes."So how was he?"

"Did you miss the memo? I said I can't remember a fucking thing!" She hissed, eyes staring ahead at the door. "I'm in so much shit, Lo. I dunno' what I did last night, and I woke up this morning with a fucking ring on my finger, and-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Her friend cut in, her tone turning serious. "What are you talking about? A ring!"

"I think I got married last night." She admitted, her free hand moving to rub her face. Her head was starting to hurt, either from the predicament she was in or a delayed hangover that she was bound to have from all that she had consumed last night.

"Shut. Up." Was her shocked, yet simple reply.

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><p>John breathed a sigh of relief when he heard a furious knocking on the door. He jogged over to it and pulled it open, never as happy to see his best friend as he was in that moment. "Dude, what the fuck!"<p>

John shushed him and ushered him in, worried that the girl in the bathroom would hear them both and panic again. Randy surveyed the scene. The room was large and extravagant, the giant four poster bed obviously the main attraction, yet a complete mess from what he imagined was quite the night. He noticed a large basket placed on a table at the far end of the room and sauntered over to take a closer look. He couldn't control his laughter. "Man, you booked the honeymoon suite!" He managed to get out between breaths, holding up a welcome card. He looked down at the ground and began to laugh even more. "And rose petals! At least you went all out on your special night, Cena!"

"This isn't funny!" He growled. "What the fuck am I going to do! I'm married!"

Randy stopped laughing and approached him, a sincere look on his face as he cupped his shoulder. "... Congratulations." And with that he began laughing so hard that he was doubled over, struggling to breathe.

"If you're going to be an unhelpful prick, then you can fuck off." John snapped, pointing towards the door.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He said, wiping the tears from his eyes. "You really don't remember a thing from last night?" He shook his head while Randy stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Well I remember she was hot, which is a good thing. Imagine if you woke up to the fucking hunchback or something. Then we'd have a problem."

"Because this isn't a problem at all.." He mumbled, rolling his eyes at his best friend.

"What I'm trying to say is that it could be worse," He said, slapping his back. "Where is she, anyway?"

"Bathroom." He sighed. "She has no idea who I am."

"Wow..." He muttered. "That's a good thing though, right?"

"I guess." He watched as Randy lent down and picked something up from the floor. He stood up straight and held a pair of panties between his fingers, unable to wipe the grin from his face. "Dude, put those down!"

"She has nice taste in underwear too," He smirked, only for it to fade when he saw the woman from last night glaring at him from the bathroom doorway. "Uh, hello there."

She stormed over and snatched them from his hand, her face bright red with embarrassment. "Who the fuck are you? Don't say I'm married to you too?"

"Unfortunately for you, hon, you ended up with this oaf and not me." He laughed, only to receive a jab in the ribs from John. "I'm Randy, aka the guy who paid the tab last night. You certainly know how to put away your alcohol.."

"I wouldn't know, since I don't remember a thing." She answered, quickly tucking her underwear into her purse.

"Shame, we had a great time." Randy grinned, wrapping his arm around John's shoulder. "Right Johnny boy?"

"So your names Johnny?" She asked, turning her attention back to him. "I can't believe I'm supposedly married to you and I don't even know your name."

"I prefer John." He answered, crossing his arms over his chest. "And you...?"

"I'm Amelia," She swallowed. This was all so bizarre. "So why am I supposed to know who you are, Johnny?" She asked, completely ignoring his request. "I need to know whose money I'm apparently chasing, right?"

John cringed, instantly feeling bad for his little outburst earlier. "It doesn't matter right now. We need to fix this."

"Well can we hurry? 'Cause I'd really like to go home now." She mumbled, crossing her own arms, partly so that she could tuck in her hand so that she wouldn't have to look at the ugly ring on her finger. "I have work at 3."

"Where do you work?" Randy asked nosely, only to receive a glare in return. "Never mind."

"Well we have a plane to catch, so don't think you're the only one with shit to do." He scowled at her, turning to Randy. "So? What's the plan?"

"You didn't tell me that I needed to come up with a plan!" Randy accused before settling down on the rooms couch, remote in hand as he turned on the television. "How the hell am I supposed to know what to do!"

"The whole reason you're here is to help, Orton!" John huffed. "Not to sit here watching fucking sports centre!"

"I'm not watching sports centre, I'm watching you." He remarked, pointing the remote towards the television. John and Amelia both looked up, their faces falling when they saw John's picture on the screen with the headline 'Wrestler weds in Vegas' underneath.

"Why are you on the TV screen?" She swallowed. He ignored her, unable to tear his eyes away from the reporter.

**WWE Wrestler and Marine star John Cena reportedly got hitched last night in a, wait for it, forty dollar Vegas ceremony! How romantic!**

A picture flashed up of a grotty looking building lit up with cheap fairy lights and a large sign offering wedding saver deals. She groaned in disgust and reached out to punch him in the arm. "You married me in that dump! And for a lousy forty dollars!"

"I would have preferred to have not married you at all," He grumbled, rubbing the spot where she had hit him.

**It doesn't end there, because in typical Vegas fashion, John and his mystery girl were married by none other then Elvis Presley himself! **

He managed to dodge her next jab and moved away from her, seeing that she was getting redder by the second.

**While we do not have details on John Cena's new bride, we did manage to get a picture of the happy couple taken shortly after their twenty minute ceremony.**

John face palmed and Randy laughed while Amelia covered her face in shame. The picture they showed had her draped all over John, the two sharing a sloppy kiss while their Elvis impersonating minister stood behind them with a grin so wide, his face had gained three extra chins.

"I can't believe this.." She murmured to no one in particular.

"What the hell are we going to do?" John sighed, stealing the remote from Randy so that he could switch it off.

"There's only one thing you can do.." Randy began glumly.

John nodded sadly and the two shared a knowing look before speaking in unison.

"Call Vince."


End file.
